Where We Are Not

Lately I've been reading one of Barbara Kingsolver's novels, The Prodigal Summer. I really wanted to like The Poisonwood Bible, and was unfortunately disappointed. When I found this one on the shelf of a used book store, I decided I would give it a try. I think I was drawn to it becuase it's set in the Southern Applachian mountains. Having spent my summers in the Shenandoah Valley, I have an idealistic picture of pristine mountain life. Everything seems to be simpler - waking up with the sun, spending time on your own land, growing food that you will later eat, and knowing all your neighbors. The opportunity to be reminded daily how small you are in comparison to the beautiful peaks that loom in the near distance seems idyllic. Yet, do all of these seeming attractions ignore the hard work that goes into farming, or real possibility of lonliness that comes with country life? I guess what I'm wondering is whether I simply have a case of "the grass is always greener on the other side." It might be that simple. But having grown up in suburbia, and living in a small city now, I can honestly say that I'm far from settled. Maybe I would hate the country if I actually lived there. I guess the larger question that's looming in my mind is whether we ever really settle down? Is there always going to be somewhere else we wish we'd been or might still go? Or do we find a place where our hearts and bodies are truly content to simply be? For now, I'll continue to enjoy the lush descriptions and farm tales of Kingsolver's novel, while sporting my brand new ass-kickin boots. Country life remains a simple fantasy. Where I am not is perhaps only a preview of what is to come.